


welcome to my playground

by soobiscuits



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soobiscuits/pseuds/soobiscuits
Summary: My dumping ground of works that may never be completed but it'll be a waste not to put them up here for everyone's enjoyment (if any).If you wish for any of these works to be continued, please comment and let me know! I'll consider! :)1. markhyuck, social workers au2. markhyuck, vampire-human au3. markhyuck, band au
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> markhyuck // social workers au
> 
> In which Mark is Donghyuck's mentor at work, and together they visit the individuals and families they're assigned.

“Doyoung? Jaehyun?”

“Uh, aren’t they supposed to be home? I don’t think it’s a good thing that two elderly men are out on such a cold day.”

“They should be home,” replies Mark as he pushes his gold-rimmed spectacles up his nose. He toes off his shoes and opens the shoe cupboard to retrieve two pairs of home slippers. Mark hands a pair to Donghyuck before slipping into the other pair. “Though, Jaehyun has the penchant for heading out at the weirdest of timings. I wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t home.”

Trailing after his mentor, Donghyuck steps into the living room and immediately makes a beeline for the coffee table. On it are two neat stacks of magazines, an opened newspaper, and two cups on saucers. One cup is half-drunk while the other is empty, a ring of coffee stain around the piece of china. There’s also a handphone sitting on the newspaper. Donghyuck picks it up and inspects it. He chuckles when he sees an Apeach sticker on the back. 

“That’s Jaehyun’s,” says Mark when he stands next to Donghyuck, eyes darting to the piece of technology in his mentee’s hands. “Doyoung got me to buy that sticker for him because Jaehyun reminded him of that character.”

There’s a handphone in Mark’s hands as well, and Donghyuck spies a rabbit sticker on its back. “Let me guess,” Donghyuck pipes up. “Doyoung looks like a rabbit?”

“Bingo!” 

A voice that Donghyuck hasn’t heard before comes up from behind them, and Donghyuck turns around to see an elderly man shuffling slowly towards them. There’s a grin on his wizened face, and, oh. He has dimples.

Mark shoves the handphone into Donghyuck’s hands before walking up to the man, only for his hands to be batted away by the elder. “I’m not going to fall, Mark. I can walk on my own.”

“Says the old man who almost fell while stepping into the shower yesterday.”

Another voice that Donghyuck hasn’t heard before comes from behind the man. Seconds later, another elderly man appears. There’s a smile on his face, and his eyes are the brightest Donghyuck has ever seen. 

“You fell?” Mark asks, his eyes round and wide. Donghyuck quickly makes out the shock and concern his mentor must be feeling at the moment. “Jaehyun, you fell?”

The dimpled elder—Jaehyun—rolls his eyes. “I didn’t. What part of _almost fell_ did you not understand, my dear Mark?” 

“He didn’t fall. But he did knock his hand against the kitchen island while cooking us breakfast this morning,” says the other elderly man. He lifts one of Jaehyun’s hands to show Mark the small, yellow bruise on the knuckle. “It’s small, but I applied ointment anyway. Experience and research have shown that the elderly mustn’t take any injury lightly, no matter the size.”

Mark nods. “Doyoung’s right. Jaehyun, please be more careful. You’re not young anymore.” 

Donghyuck thinks something funny must have happened, for in the next moment someone is laughing in the room. Looking away from Jaehyun’s dramatic pout, Donghyuck realises that it’s the bright-eyed elder—Doyoung—who’s laughing. Confusion washes over Donghyuck, and he subconsciously plays with the phones in his hands.

“Love, stop pouting,” says Doyoung between wheezes. He extends a hand over to Jaehyun’s face, fingers pinching the pair of protruding lips. “You’re scaring Mark’s cute mentee.”

Silence. Then–

“Mark, did you hear that? Doyoung thinks I’m cute.”

And amidst the laughter of the two older men, a grinning Donghyuck receives a punch to his arm from a frowning Mark.

\---

“Are… Doyoung and Jaehyun in a relationship?”

“Mm, sort of?” Mark replies. “Their relationship is quite vague. I’ve been with them for almost four months now, and I still don’t quite understand their dynamic.”

Donghyuck hums just as an autumn breeze blows at them. Pulling the ends of his sweater sleeves over his hands, he says, “Because they seem extremely close for two elderly men who used to live next to each other.” 

“I guess things happened.” Mark suddenly swings his JanSport to the front before unzipping it. He shoves a hand in, says, “Continue walking. I’m just taking something.” And Mark jerks his chin forward.

Although puzzled by his mentor’s actions, Donghyuck listens and continues walking while looking down at his hidden hands. It’s cold. 

A hot pack suddenly appears in Donghyuck’s peripheral vision, and Donghyuck looks up from his sweater paws to see Mark looking away. There’s a faint dust of red across his mentor’s cheeks, and his eyes are watery. His nose is reddening and blotchy. He must be feeling cold in his sweater, too. Donghyuck kindly rejects Mark’s gesture, lifting his hidden hands to show that he’s okay. He’s not (that) cold. 

Mark’s brows draw together immediately, and before Donghyuck can protest, Mark is pulling his hands out of the sleeves. “Take it,” Mark says, gruffly, as he shoves the hot pack into Donghyuck’s hands. He then gently pulls the ends of the sleeves back over Donghyuck’s hands. “You’ve been shivering since we left their apartment building.”

Not knowing what to say, Donghyuck just nods. He quietly says a sincere _thank you_ to Mark before dropping his eyes from his mentor’s face. Only to see that Mark is still holding onto his hands. Heat immediately rushes to Donghyuck’s cheeks, and his heart inexplicably starts to race. 

Donghyuck gulps. _What’s… happening?_

“Donghyuck?” 

The sudden call of his name causes Donghyuck to jump and his hands reflexively jerk. Mark must have felt it, for seconds later he’s snatching his hands away from Donghyuck’s, taking with them the warmth that enveloped Donghyuck’s hands.

Forcing himself to not look disappointed (why would he be disappointed, Donghyuck doesn’t understand at that moment), Donghyuck smiles, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his sweater. In a bid to dissipate the… tension(?), he gingerly asks, “Just now you mentioned that things could have happened? Did something happen to Doyoung and Jaehyun?”

“Mm,” Mark hums, a thoughtful expression forming on his face. He gestures for them to continue walking, and Donghyuck gives his mentor a sheepish smile, not realising that they have stopped. Mark shakes his head, but he taps twice on his watch. Donghyuck nods, instantly getting what his mentor is implying. 

They walk on in silence until they reach the bus stop. It’s lunch hour, and the stop is packed with people. Donghyuck doesn’t bother to squeeze in, choosing to stand a couple of feet away from the sheltered bus stop. Mark stands next to him, head looking up and seemingly at the bus frequency screen installed at the ceiling of the stop. 

It’s seconds later, after looking away from the screen, does Mark say, “They were probably lonely, Doyoung and Jaehyun. They have always been close to each other even when their wives were alive.” He looks at Donghyuck, a corner of his lips curling upward when he sees how startled his mentee is. “I remember Jaehyun telling me once that he used to date boys in high school and in university before he met his wife.”

A bus pulls up at the bus stop then, and Donghyuck points to it. He blinks in question. Somehow, Mark seems to have understood. He shakes his head and says, “We’re taking 606. Oh, and 802 but we’ll have to alight earlier and walk a little.”

Donghyuck nods. While he knows which buses to take to their next destination, he hasn’t visited Doyoung and Jaehyun before so Donghyuck’s not familiar with the buses in this area. Best to follow the person who knows. Smiling, Donghyuck softly asks, “Then, um, how long have they lived like this?”

Although Mark is once again looking at the bus frequency screen, Donghyuck is still able to see how his mentor’s face darkens. Oh no. 

Despite being the youngest social worker in the small company (not anymore since the addition of Donghyuck), Mark is, in Department Head Bae Joohyun’s words, _absolutely fully capable_. And those three words made up the only answer Donghyuck was given when he had unconsciously blurted out a _why?_ after being informed of his mentor. 

(Don’t be mistaken. There’s no bad blood between Donghyuck and Mark. Donghyuck just hadn’t known who Mark Lee was at that time.) 

Having been taken under the wings of The Absolutely-Fully-Capable Mark Lee for almost a month now, Donghyuck knows what’s coming. He swallows, mentally prepares himself for whatever his mentor is going to say. His words aren’t going to be pretty that’s for sure. 

“You didn’t read their files, did you, Lee Donghyuck?”

… Well, that’s not too bad. Donghyuck has heard worse.

Slapping on his face an apologetic expression, Donghyuck clasps his hands at his tummy, and his fingers tighten their hold on Mark’s hot pack. He quietly says, “No, Mark, I’m sorry. I was updating Mister Suh and Mister Na’s files since I visited them on Monday and yesterday respectively.”

“… It’s fine then. It’s not a big deal. I’ll just tell you.” Mark slips his thumbs under the straps of his backpack, fingers curling around them. He looks at Donghyuck then. Immediately, his eyes remind Donghyuck of unbelievably clear night skies. Donghyuck resists the urge to look away, and if Mark notices Donghyuck suddenly chewing on his bottom lip, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he continues to speak. 

“Doyoung’s wife passed first, and Jaehyun’s wife had thought that it would be good for Doyoung to have company. So, she often invited Doyoung over for meals. Even after she passed about a year later, Doyoung hadn’t stopped going over to Jaehyun’s. It was already routine. Doyoung even went on weekends.”

A genuine smile spreads across Donghyuck’s face as his apprehension wanes, making way for the delight that courses through him upon hearing about the elderly men’s lasting friendship. “That’s wonderful,” he says. A thought surfaces in his head then. But before Donghyuck can stop himself from thinking aloud, he’s saying, “Do you think their wives would support their relationship?”

It is as though Mark has been asked this question before. Or if he’s surprised, his face doesn’t show it. Mark just shrugs and replies, “Nobody would know, in all honesty. But that’s none of our business, don’t you think?” Mark tilts his head to the side. “Our responsibility is to take care of their welfare.”

Donghyuck nods, smiling. “Mm! As long as they’re happy, nothing else matters.”

“How are Jaemin and Jisung?”

At the mention of the family he visited just yesterday, Donghyuck perks up and he grins. “They’re okay! Jaemin is still trying to cope and make things work, but I can see that Jisung has gotten more understanding of the situation.”

“That’s good,” says Mark as he smiles a small one. “Is Jisung adapting to the kindergarten we enrolled him in? I hope he’s not causing problems at school.”

“Aww, Mark. I didn’t know you cared so much for him. You’re always so reluctant to give him your attention.”

The smile on Mark’s face wanes, and the corners of his lips turn down a little. “I had to. I don’t want him to be too attached to me.” He looks away from Donghyuck, eyes returning to the bus frequency screen. 

Donghyuck instantly gets it. He looks down at his sneakers, eyes unconsciously drifting to his mentor’s as well. Huh, they’re both wearing Converse. Donghyuck’s heart inexplicably races again. Still, his voice betrays none of the slight excitement he’s feeling when he quietly says, “Because we’re not going to be their social workers forever.”

“That’s right.” 

To steady his unusually nervous self, Donghyuck inhales a small breath. He looks up just in time to see Mark extending a hand towards him, his fingers curling around a clothed wrist. Donghyuck doesn’t even have time to be surprised, for his mentor is pulling him towards the bus that just pulled up at the bus stop. 

“Sorry for pulling you like this,” apologises Mark once they’re on the bus. “I know how crowded this bus can get during this hour so I just– Sorry if you felt uncomfortable, Donghyuck.” 

Although they were one of the first few passengers to board, they didn’t manage to grab seats because most of them were already occupied.

(Well, Mark did grab one seat, but he kindly gave it up to the elderly lady who boarded right after them. It caused Donghyuck’s [stupid] heart to race again.) 

The bus is crowded, and both Donghyuck and Mark find themselves being unceremoniously pushed into a tiny corner. Donghyuck is leaning dangerously against the single railing that’s preventing him from falling onto the steps of the exit door. At the same time, Mark stands impossibly close in front of him. 

Even though Donghyuck has leaned as far away as he possibly can from Mark, the distance between them is still almost non-existent. They’re so close to each other, Donghyuck can count the number of freckles and moles on his mentor’s face. It’s not a good thing. He can feel his heart racing again.

“Y’know, sometimes, I forget.”

Donghyuck barely registers that Mark is speaking until he sees his mouth moving. And Donghyuck unconsciously moves his head a little closer to Mark’s because he can’t really hear what his mentor is saying over the din of the bus. 

If Mark is startled by his mentee’s sudden movement, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he says, “I forget that Jaemin is your age. Just a year younger than I am. And he has to care for his six-year-old half-brother.”

A soft agreeing hum. Then Donghyuck says, “I can’t imagine how much courage Jaemin had to muster up to say that he doesn’t want Jisung to be sent to the orphanage. That he’ll be his brother’s guardian. I don’t know how he did all that thinking right after knowing that their parents’ have died.”

Silence descends upon them, neither of them willing to speak after that. Donghyuck finds himself feeling a little sad. Thoughts about Jaemin and Jisung always do that to his mood. Donghyuck unknowingly curls in on himself, head dropping. At the same time, a hand releases itself from the railing to hide in one sweater pocket.

Suddenly, a loud _bang!_ drowns out the conversations around them. Screams and shrieks immediately follow, and Donghyuck doesn’t want to believe it, but he thinks his feet have left the floor and he’s floating in mid-air. It is as if gravity has left Earth the moment the bus flew. 

Although he has a hand grabbing onto the very same railing that’s digging into his back, Donghyuck still finds himself falling backwards. His other hand reflexively shoots out in front of him, fingers desperately wanting to hold onto something. They grasp at nothing.

Just then, an arm slides past the small of his back and fingers curl around the side of his waist. Donghyuck feels strength gathering in the arm. Then, he’s lurching forward. 

To find Mark’s face right in front of his.

“You alright, Hyuck?”

It is as though Mark doesn’t realise how impossibly close their faces are. Doesn’t feel the tips of their noses bumping. Doesn’t feel the heat of Donghyuck’s breaths on his lips. Doesn’t realise that he can probably count the number of moles on Donghyuck’s face if he wants to. ~~Doesn’t register that he can kiss Donghyuck if he just closes the barely existent distance between their lips.~~

Mark doesn’t seem to register all that. Even though the bus has returned to travelling safely on the road, he’s still not stepping away from Donghyuck. He doesn’t unravel his arm from around Donghyuck’s waist, doesn’t relax the tight grip his fingers have on Donghyuck’s side, doesn’t look away from Donghyuck’s eyes.

Still reeling from the shock of it all, Donghyuck doesn’t trust himself to say anything. He might just blurt out words he most definitely doesn’t mean to say—his notoriety for possessing a non-working brain-to-mouth filter isn’t for show y’know. (Donghyuck has plenty of embarrassing anecdotes to back this up. Stories that he doesn’t want to ever hear again.)

The lack of response from Donghyuck must have worried Mark. Donghyuck feels the arm around his waist tighten, thus bringing his body _even_ closer to his mentor’s. And then there are his eyes. Mark’s eyes are drowning Donghyuck with the concern that’s storming within them. 

“Are you okay? Hyuck, don’t scare me.”

Donghyuck almost doesn’t process Mark’s words, but he does a double-take on the inside when his shock-addled brain finally catches up. 

Hyuck. 

_He called me ‘Hyuck’. Twice._

And Donghyuck’s stupid heart starts racing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based this on a short volunteer stint I did, where my mentor brought me to the families and individuals he was tasked to care for. The elderly couple I visited wasn't of the same gender of course (I reside in Asia so you know what's up), but Jaemin/Jisung's situation is a very real thing. There are orphaned youths out there who need help in all areas, but it's very encouraging to see them getting the help they need. They have a future, we just need to be willing to help them out. So, volunteer if you're able to!! 
> 
> If you find that some things aren't right, please let me know but do remember that every organisation works differently. What you experienced could be different from what I did. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! :)
> 
> twitter: soobiscuits


	2. i saw a compass in my dream (it's you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> markhyuck // vampire-human au
> 
> didn't plan on uploading today but happy birthday taeil! welcome to the twenty-six-year-old club 
> 
> (yeah i'm 26 too. we all old [but gold] souls here hehe)
> 
> it's short, i know, but enjoy anyway!

_8:25PM._

Donghyuck glances up worriedly from the digital clock on his laptop screen, eyes darting to the counter, to the register handled by a person that’s not _him_.

“He’s late,” Donghyuck murmurs, not realising that his fingers are beginning to drum on the table. Blunt, bitten nails creating an erratic soft pattern— _thud thud thud_ —on the worn wood. “He should be here by now.”

_Could he have… met with trouble?_

Donghyuck instantly perks up at that, panic slightly seeping into him. He’s not in the least concerned about leaving his belongings unattended, about to get up to leave the coffee joint to search for _him_ when—

“I’m so sorry! I’m late!”

—the person Donghyuck has been worrying his pretty head over bursts through the kitchen doors. _His_ hair is sticking up in all directions, possibly the disastrous result of the strong wind currently blowing outside. A faint shade of pink dusts _his_ cheeks, and Donghyuck has to physically restrain himself from going over to cup _his_ face with his hands to warm it up. 

_How warm can your hands even be_ , Donghyuck’s mind unhelpfully supplies. _You haven’t emanated heat in centuries._

It’s the truth. The cold (pun intended), hard truth. Since Donghyuck was Turned, he indeed hasn’t emanated heat in centuries. 

He also hasn’t had blood since… Well, Donghyuck hasn’t had human blood since _then_. And the scent— _oh_ his _scent_ —that Donghyuck has been discreetly relishing since _he_ entered the joint is beyond exquisite. Donghyuck has no words to describe the scent; he just likes it. 

(To be specific, he _loves_ it.) 

And if only the coffee joint wasn’t this populated, or if _he_ didn’t have _his_ arms around the person that was manning the register, Donghyuck would jump over the counter and throw himself at _him_. Would bury his face into _his_ neck, nuzzle his nose at _his_ pulse point, graze his lips against _his_ smooth, milk-white skin–

Something sharp suddenly stabs at Donghyuck’s lower lip. 

Donghyuck immediately runs his tongue across his lower lip, a pre-humanistic reflex of checking for blood. There’s no blood, thankfully, only indents of whatever created them. Yet, Donghyuck’s blood runs cold(er) when he skims his tongue across his upper set of teeth only to realise that— _fuck_. His canines have unconsciously elongated. 

Donghyuck doesn’t lose control. He has _never_ lost control because his Maker made sure of it, having forced Donghyuck into a merciless vampire training regime straight after Turning him. While he hadn’t developed PTSD after, Donghyuck still shudders in unadulterated fear each time Renjun reminisces about his own training by his Maker (for whatever reason Donghyuck would never know but Renjun always has been endearingly nostalgic). 

It’s true when they say birds of the same feather, or in this case _vampires of the same Maker_ , flock together. Donghyuck doesn’t know details, but he knows that Doyoung and Kun were Turned by the same vampire, although decades apart. They somehow found each other one night while hunting, their noses having led them to target the same (poor) deer. And after that meal (which they probably shared), Doyoung and Kun have been best friends since. 

Perhaps their Maker had forced them into a similar training regime that was equally cruel and ruthless and tough. Otherwise, Donghyuck can’t think of a reason as to why both he and Renjun have had to experience those fucking arduous times. Renjun still has nightmares from time to time, his bloodcurdling screams shattering the tranquillity of their shared room. (Why Renjun chooses to sleep when he no longer has to is something Donghyuck doesn’t understand.)

( _“Why do I have to be subjected to the training straight away? Couldn’t I have had a buffer period?”_

It’s been centuries, but Donghyuck still remembers asking Doyoung. He remembers how the silver-white crescent moon hung luminous and bright behind his Maker, illuminating Doyoung’s forever-youthful visage.

Donghyuck also remembers the wistful expression on Doyoung’s face.

 _“We may defy the rules of time and have forever now,”_ Doyoung had replied. _“But time still has a hold over us because all it takes is a single second to ruin us. Just a split second of falling for temptation, of giving in to your hunger and going wild is all it’ll take to throw yourself and our entire existence into danger.”_

The bout of agony that defined his Maker’s delicate facial features was fleeting. Still, Donghyuck etched Doyoung’s pained expression into his mind. He carved it deep and hard into his memory, vowing then and there to never become a cause of that unwanted emotion for his beloved Maker.

Unfortunately, vows were always meant to be broken.)

A chill runs up Donghyuck’s spine. Even though he knows that Doyoung is at home (probably baking a cake and awaiting his return), Donghyuck still sweeps his eyes across the threshold searching for an ever-familiar mop of black hair. 

Fortunately, the only head of black hair belongs to _him_. While Donghyuck’s chest aches with each smile _he_ directs at a customer, Donghyuck still smiles, genuine and oh-so fond. 

Everything is okay. Everything is alright.

_My Minhyung is safe._

\---

_“Why do I have to accompany you to this lame get-together of yours,” Donghyuck grumbled as he trudged alongside his Maker, snow crunching under his well-worn boots. He stomped harder in his next step to let his displeasure be known._

_Doyoung chuckled. “Because there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He placed a hand on his charge’s head, fingers playfully tousling a messy head of honey-brown locks. “Youngho says that Minhyung is around your age.” Then, he added, “Kun and Renjun are going as well.”_

_His Maker’s intonation indicated as though the mention of Donghyuck’s best friend was enough of an incentive to get him to attend. (Frankly, it was [because Donghyuck actually missed Renjun; though, he’d never admit it].)_

_“Fine,” Donghyuck sighed. “But if you catch me sulking, you can’t scold me! You can’t even say anything about it!”_

_Doyoung’s laughter reminded Donghyuck of wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. “Yes, yes. I won’t pass any remarks about your behaviour. Now, we’re about to be late. Let’s run, shall we?”_

_“Are you challenging me, old man?”_

_A glint appeared in Doyoung’s eyes. “Well, this_ old man _is going to leave you in the dust.”_

_“Bring it on.”_

_To say that his Maker had ‘someone I’d like you to meet’ is an understatement._

_To Donghyuck, it was more like ‘someone I’d like you to meet and instantly_ fall in love with _’._

 _At first glance, Minhyung was good-looking. At second glance (and after a much longer [awestruck] gaze), he was_ still _handsome. Donghyuck found Minhyung to be attractive in a similar way Donghyuck had found Doyoung to be when he first met him. Obsidian-coloured hair, dark eyes, chiselled facial features. Donghyuck likened his Maker to glass, delicate and fragile (though he found Doyoung to be absolutely nothing like that afterwards)._

_It was the same for Minhyung. Donghyuck thought of the vampire as dainty and breakable. As though wind could blow him away if he wasn’t careful. Minhyung’s appearance was eerily similar to Doyoung’s and, like his Maker’s, Minhyung’s skin glowed under the illumination of the moon’s silvery rays._

Ethereal _, Donghyuck first thought._

Dammit, what a smile _, was Donghyuck’s next thought when Minhyung smiled at him and extended a hand into the space between them. Youngho always had been strict on manners._

_“Hello,” Minhyung said, tone polite and controlled. “I’m Minhyung. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”_

What a voice too _, was Donghyuck’s third thought and he would have continued to revel in the low, husky baritone of Minhyung’s voice if not for the sharp pain that suddenly erupted at the back of his head. Donghyuck’s yelp of pain earned his ears a different sound. A giggle that Donghyuck wants to hear until the end of time._

_Tearing his glare away from an unimpressed Doyoung, Donghyuck gingerly slipped a hand into Minhyung’s before shyly looking up at him. “I-I’m Donghyuck. P-Pleasure to make your acquaintance, too.”_

_Smiling, Minhyung nodded. “The pleasure’s all mine, Donghyuck.”_

_The grip upon his hand tightened, and Donghyuck briefly darted his eyes to the hand he has interlaced with Minhyung’s. Warm. Donghyuck felt warmth enveloping his hand. It’s strange. Vampires don’t emanate heat._

_And when he returned his gaze to Minhyung’s face, Donghyuck found himself wondering the same thing again. It’s strange. Donghyuck hasn’t met a vampire whose eyes twinkled that brightly. The bedazzling sparkles in Minhyung’s eyes reminded Donghyuck of the stars that hung above them._

_He likes stars. They were the first things he saw the moment he opened his eyes after Turning._

_And now, Donghyuck liked Minhyung, too._

\---

_**Donghyuck: i cant believe youre abandoning me** _

_**Jun: The only ‘I can’t believe’ I wanna hear is Jongdae’s from Tempo so shut up Hyuck** _

_**Jun: Also, I didn’t mean to abandon you today but Kun needed me** _

_**Donghyuck: yeah yeah i heard go have fun** _

_**Jun: Please. How fun would it be to hang out with my Maker** _

_**Donghyuck: funner than being in history ALONE** _

“Excuse me, but is this seat taken?”

Donghyuck hears _him_ before he scents _him_. 

And the heart which should never be able to beat again—but Donghyuck swears it comes back to life every time he sees _him_ —suddenly stirred. He then hears a _thump_ that he would never have been able to hear if he was still human.

Without looking up from his phone (where Renjun has replied _**Shut up. Try searching for a baby vamp with Kun and you’ll rethink fun**_ ), Donghyuck shakes his head while gesturing to the empty seat next to him. He prays that _he_ doesn’t see how his hand is shaking. 

If _he_ was offended by Donghyuck’s response, _he_ doesn’t mention it. Instead, _he_ just says, “Thanks.”

Setting _his_ bag onto the desk, _he_ plops onto the empty chair. When _he_ unzips his bag to take something out, _his_ elbow accidentally brushes against Donghyuck’s arm and Donghyuck unconsciously jerks. Donghyuck’s phone (where Donghyuck is typing a reply to Renjun: _**swap with me then if you oh so rather come to class ill find that baby vamp with your maker**_ ) clatter noisily onto his desk.

 _He_ notices it. From the corners of Donghyuck’s eyes (not that he’s been discreetly eyeing _him_!), Donghyuck makes out an apologetic expression forming on _his_ face. 

“Sorry,” _he_ starts to apologise. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to.”

 _His_ apologetic tone inexplicably makes Donghyuck’s heart ache. And although Donghyuck isn’t looking at _him_ , he knows that _he_ ’s still looking at him. The resulting heat of _his_ seemingly searching gaze on his face prompts Donghyuck sigh inwardly before mustering up whatever measly amount of courage he has in him to look up at _him_. 

Donghyuck expected it. He expected that _his_ eyes would be on him but Donghyuck still finds himself almost reeling back at the intensity of _his_ gaze. Thank goodness for his impeccable control; Donghyuck mentally makes a note to thank his Maker by preparing breakfast tomorrow. 

In the next second, however, Donghyuck’s eyes drop, effectively breaking the eye contact. Evidently, his control isn’t as perfect as he thought it was. Bashfulness is an emotion Donghyuck hasn’t felt in a long while.

“I-I’m fine,” stutters Donghyuck, tongue reflexively darting out to lick his lips—a habit that exposes his nervousness. “There’s no need to apologise. It’s… not your fault.”

In his peripheral vision, Donghyuck thinks he sees _him_ smile. _He_ must be, if the seemingly buoyant tone of his words is an indication. “Cool.” Then, a quick add-on. “Wait, you’re attending this class alone today? I thought you usually have a friend with you.”

Donghyuck freezes. 

_He… noticed?_

As though enchanted by a spell, Donghyuck spaces out, and he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t replied until he vaguely makes out something waving in front of him. The vision quality of that _something_ gradually sharpens to that of high definition when Donghyuck snaps himself out of his daze. He belatedly discovers that it’s _his_ hand.

When Donghyuck lifts his head a little to look at _him_ , he sees how _his_ brows are furrowed. Donghyuck’s fingers suddenly tingle, fingertips itching to do something. (Something dumb like easing _his_ brows apart.)

Fortunately, his perfect control makes an appearance once more. “Uh, Jun… I mean, my friend couldn’t be here today. So, um, yeah, I’m alone.”

The tips of Donghyuck’s fingers pale significantly as he presses them hard into the surface of his desk. A prevention method that would have worked if not for _him_ furrowing his brows even more. In the next moment, a gasp, barely audible above the din of the lecture hall, slips past Donghyuck’s lips when he realises in horror what he did.

For one of his hands has breached the distance between them to gently press two fingertips on the wrinkled space between furrowed brows.

It doesn’t take a genius to know that _he_ is shocked, too. 

_His_ already-large (and captivating) eyes grow even wider, and Donghyuck quickly retracts his hand as though _his_ skin burns. He shoves his hand under his thigh, drops his head, and jams his chin into the collar of his plaid flannel long-sleeves while squeezing his eyes shut before stammering, “I-I– I didn’t mean t–”

“My friend couldn’t make it today, too.”

It’s abrupt. The way _his_ words sounded was as though _he_ blurted it out without thought. It was as though _he_ could read Donghyuck’s thoughts of hoping for a ~~miracle~~ change of topic. While Donghyuck doesn’t know why _he_ did what _he_ did, there is one thing he knows for sure. 

That _he_ ’s embarrassed as well.

When Donghyuck slowly lifts his head up, he’s greeted with a pretty shade of pink that has bloomed across _his_ chiselled face. _His_ eyes are still beautifully round and large, exposing the shock (or surprise?) swirling within. Donghyuck wants to pretend that he doesn’t notice the hint of a smile at the corners of _his_ lips.

“Oh,” Donghyuck intelligently replies. His brain has shut down ever since it decided to send Donghyuck’s fingers on the ~~suicide~~ mission to ease _his_ furrowed brows apart. 

“I’m Mark,” _he_ says while extending a hand towards Donghyuck. “Nice to meet you.”

Donghyuck wishes he didn’t have to shake _his_ hand, but Doyoung’s training regime is so ingrained in him that Donghyuck reaches out even before his mind registers the action. His Maker will be so glad to know that his charge is displaying impeccable manners (that he is unable to get rid of).

“Donghyuck.” Then a quick afterthought. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Mark blinks— _damn, that’s so cute_ —and then he’s breaking out into laughter. “I know we’re studying history but, wow, that’s a really old-school greeting.” 

Donghyuck thought he’d die from the embarrassment of being called _old-school_ (even though he _is_ old), yet he finds himself withering on the inside the moment he hears _him_ laughing. It’s a laughter epitome of the _HAHAHAHAH_ that Donghyuck often sends to Renjun in texts. It’s a peal of laughter with a surprisingly high pitch, given how husky Mark’s voice is.

It’s a laughter that’s so, so, _so_ achingly familiar, tugging painfully hard on Donghyuck’s heartstrings.

Suppressing the strong urge to break into a smile, Donghyuck _harrumphs_ and pouts. He folds his arms across his chest, huffily twists his body away from Mark. If given a choice, Donghyuck wouldn’t have greeted in that way either. He can’t help it; that greeting is just too damn ingrained in him. Donghyuck has, after all, used that greeting for centuries. Also, whose fault was it in the first place? Who was the one who’d said it when they met the first time? Who– 

_“Hyuck, please. Please don’t forget that he’s not him. He’s not_ your _him.”_

Oh.

Bitterness immediately washes over Donghyuck as Doyoung’s words surface in his mind. It’s not the first time (and most definitely won’t be the last). Although these words were uttered to him ever since his Maker found out about _him_ months ago, they remained in Donghyuck’s head, hiding in a crevice somewhere, refusing to be discarded. 

A scoff threatens to slip past Donghyuck’s lips as he thinks to himself. 

Does Doyoung think that Donghyuck doesn’t know? Does his Maker, or anyone who knew of _him_ thinks that Donghyuck doesn’t know? He knows. Donghyuck fucking _knows_ that _he_ isn’t him. Mark isn’t Donghyuck’s him.

_“He’s not Minhyung, Hyuck.”_

But Donghyuck can’t help it. He can’t fucking help himself from thinking of Mark as _him_. He can’t help projecting Minhyung onto Mark, can’t stop himself from hearing Mark’s voice as Minhyung’s, _his_ laughter as his.

 _His_ eyes as the pair that Donghyuck loves so fucking much.

It sucks. And it hurts. It hurts so much that at times Donghyuck doesn’t know how to handle these overwhelming negative emotions. It hurts so fucking much that Donghyuck wishes he had perished along with Minhyung all those centuries ago.

He may be dead, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel pain.

If Mark has noticed how Donghyuck suddenly turns away from him, falls onto the desk and buries his head within his arms, pulls his hood over his head, he doesn’t say anything.

In fact, Donghyuck doesn’t hear a single sound from _him_ the entire class. He pretends not to acknowledge the disappointment that seeps into him, pretends that his heart doesn’t ache, doesn’t hurt. 

(When class ends, and Donghyuck hears Mark leave, he finally lifts his head. There’s a lone candy near his fingers. Donghyuck gingerly picks it up. 

A strangled sob makes its way out of his mouth in the next second.

The candy is watermelon-flavoured.)

\--- 

_“You’re drooling.”_

_“Yeah, well, it’s watermelon!”_

_Donghyuck scoffed. “It’s_ just _watermelon, Minhyung.”_

_For his remark, Donghyuck earned himself a light thwack on the forehead from Minhyung. He glared at his newest friend. “That hurt!”_

_A smirk formed on Minhyung’s face. “Serves you right for making fun of me and my love for watermelon!” He laughed when Donghyuck reflexively jerked backwards upon seeing his raised hand. “You’ll never understand, Hyuck.”_

_“Try me,” Donghyuck challenged._

_“It was my favourite fruit when I was still a human,” Minhyung began to explain. “It was also…”_

_He tapered off into silence, and Donghyuck noticed how Minhyung started to play with his fingers, as though anxious about what he was about to say._

_It hit Donghyuck then._

Shit. _Trust Donghyuck to forget how his ~~crush~~ friend came to be a vampire. _

_Everyone whom Youngho trusted was told Minhyung’s backstory. While most Turned vampires were once dying humans with terminal illnesses and of little to no relation with their Makers, Youngho and Minhyung were a different case._

_Youngho had been Minhyung’s neighbour for all of Minhyung’s life. He literally watched Minhyung grew up, from a foetus in his mother’s tummy, to an infant, a boy, and to a handsome young lad. He witnessed all of Minhyung’s developmental milestones, his achievements and accomplishments, and even incidentally chanced upon fifteen-year-old Minhyung being confessed to by a sweet lass._

_Minhyung had been the younger brother Youngho always wanted, and their relationship was as such. The blood that flowed in their bodies will never be the same, but they were kin. They were family._

_Unfortunately, Youngho had to watch Minhyung charge into a raging fire that was razing Minhyung’s house to the ground. And although, as a vampire, Youngho knew better than to intervene in matters of life and death, he couldn’t care less. Not when it’s been minutes, and Minhyung has not emerged from the fire-ravaged house._

You’re not going to die here _, Youngho decided._ Minhyung, you had better be alive. 

_Then, he went in._

_“I owe my life to Youngho,” Minhyung said instead. “I will always be eternally grateful and indebted to him.”_

_Guilt-ridden, Donghyuck just nodded. He’d heard this before, many times actually (because Youngho has a penchant for reminiscing whenever he has downed one too many bottles of alcohol). He just can’t believe that he’d forget about it, and now he had dredged up the_ one _thing no one should ever mention in front of Minhyung._

_“Sorry,” Donghyuck apologised, anyway. He gently placed a hand on Minhyung’s shoulder, squeezed it with comfortable pressure, then averted his eyes when Minhyung looked over. “I didn’t mean to… remind you of… her.”_

_From the corners of his eyes, Donghyuck spied Minhyung shaking his head. “Nah, it’s fine. If anything, blame Jaehyun for bringing along the watermelon.” Then, an afterthought. “Though, I still really want to eat it.”_

_Donghyuck chuckled. “Of course, you do.” He tilted his head sideways-up, shot Minhyung a smile. “Go get some, tiger.”_

_(The returning grin on Minhyung’s face would forever be etched in Donghyuck’s memories as one of the last smiles he’d receive from him._

_For like his mother, the last thing that Minhyung ate before perishing was also watermelon.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you think you've read it before, you're not wrong. i wanted to flesh this out but realised that i probably can't so here it is, in the playground
> 
> also,  
> [\- black lives matter](https://blacklivesmatter.carrd.co)
> 
> have a good day wherever you are :)
> 
> twitter: soobiscuits


	3. (without change) you shine on me forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> markhyuck // band au
> 
> In which Mark is a member of the band his boyfriend is absolutely fanatic about. The thing is, Donghyuck doesn't know about that.

Mark returns home to find himself with an armful of his ecstatic boyfriend.

“I got it!” Donghyuck shrieks as he looks at Mark. Those large, beautiful eyes of his twinkle in excitement, and his smile brims with unadulterated _glee_. “I bought it!”

His boyfriend’s enthusiasm has Mark chuckling. He edges his head close to his boyfriend’s, nuzzles his nose against Donghyuck’s, gives him a peck on the lips. “Glad to see you, too, sweetheart.”

The enthusiasm immediately drains out of Donghyuck, colour flooding his face. “Welcome home, babe.” He smiles sheepishly. “Oops, sorry for not greeting you first.” 

Mark shakes his head, drops one last kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. “It’s okay.” He reluctantly pulls away but keeps his arms wrapped around Donghyuck, not wanting to be separated. “Now, tell me what’s got you this loud and excited and–”

Donghyuck whips out from behind him an object. An object that’s vaguely familiar to Mark.

“I bought their album! I managed to get the latest _SB_ album!” Donghyuck yells, his arms flailing. And Mark most certainly would have found his boyfriend’s action adorable (he does, don’t misunderstand him) if his attention wasn’t (almost) fully occupied by the album in Donghyuck’s hands. 

“It wasn’t without trouble, of course, as with every of their release,” Donghyuck scoffs while rolling his eyes. “Had to push my way through a store full of girls and resist slapping them for screaming when they managed to get the photocards and posters that they wanted.” He then puffs his chest out, face smug, clearly proud of his accomplishment. “Though, I did only manage to get one version… Thank god I ordered the other versions online.” 

And, once again, Mark would have found his boyfriend’s action adorable (he _really_ does, please don’t misunderstand him) if his attention wasn’t (entirely) occupied by the album.

Donghyuck doesn’t seem to have noticed his boyfriend’s lack of response. He continues to smile, putting the album down to surge upwards to kiss a frozen Mark on the lips. “I’ll go put this on the display shelf so, sweetheart, you should go wash up. Dinner will be ready soon!” And with that, Donghyuck extracts himself from within his (still-frozen) boyfriend’s embrace before flouncing off to the living room.

Mark’s eyes immediately follow Donghyuck. Or more accurately, Mark’s eyes follow _the album_. 

_His band_ ’s album.

\---

Mark harbours a secret. 

It is a secret that he keeps from Donghyuck. A secret that his boyfriend of three(-going-onto-four) years doesn’t (and might never be privy to) know. 

The secret is that he’s in a band. To be specific, Mark is in _the_ band that Donghyuck is absolutely fanatic about. 

(To be _more_ specific, he is the guitarist of the band— _Summer Boys_ [or _SB_ for short].)

Mark hadn’t wanted to keep his... profession a secret from his boyfriend (he genuinely doesn’t want to have secrets, please believe him) at all, much less for the past three(-going-onto-four) years. When Mark had finally gotten a _yes I’ll be your boyfriend_ from Donghyuck after having chased him for almost six months, _Summer Boys_ wasn’t in the works. The formation of the band only happened eight months into the relationship, with _SB_ ’s debut happening in the year Mark and Donghyuck celebrated their first anniversary.

“So,” Doyoung starts, his tone seemingly casual, as he arranges the bowls of jjajangmyeon and the single, large plate of sticky rice tangsooyook on the coffee table in _SB_ ’s studio. He places the provided pairs of wooden chopsticks next to the bowls before removing the clingwrap from each one. “What was Hyuck’s response to our newest album?”

Mark shoots his bandmate a glare. 

“What,” Doyoung replies indignantly. “It was a genuine question in a bid to know the opinions of one of our fans!” At Mark’s response of an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Doyoung turns to the person walking towards them and whines, “Hyun! Look at your guitarist being rude!”

Jaehyun laughs. Sitting down on the floor next to his boyfriend (not that he’s got much of a choice what with Doyoung’s hands tugging on his wrist), Jaehyun sends an apologetic smile to Mark while a hand reaches over the table to gently pat the guitarist’s hand. Mark cracks a smile, unable to stay mad for long since his favourite bandmate (don’t tell Johnny) is nonverbally apologising (albeit for something that _he_ didn’t do). 

“Isn’t it obvious what Hyuck’s opinions were, though?”

Mark snaps his head in the direction of the familiar voice, his lips beginning to purse themselves as Kunhang saunters through the door. Behind him, Johnny is cackling, fingers twirling a drumstick.

_“Oh, Jeffrey’s voice was absolutely amazing! DY’s high notes! Hendery’s keyboard! Johnny’s drumming! And don’t get me started on Mark’s guitar and rapping skills!”_

“Shut up!” Mark growls, and he shoves Kunhang away from him the moment Kunhang plops down next to him. “My boyfriend most certainly _does not_ gush like that for fuck’s sake.”

Kunhang rolls his eyes as he pushes himself off of Jaehyun. “Yeah, yeah. Keep deceiving yourself, Markie.” He plucks the pair of chopsticks out of Mark’s struggling hands and deftly splits it apart. Lifting the cutlery up to Mark’s face, Kunhang wiggles it a little. He smirks when Mark snatches it. 

Although (secretly) in awe at how his bandmate is always able to separate chopsticks neatly and quickly, Mark doesn’t let his jealousy show. He stabs a piece of tangsooyook with his chopsticks and stuffs it into his mouth. Only to spit it out in the next second because _oh my god my burning mouth_. 

A chorus of laughter erupts around him, and Mark ignores his cackling bandmates to take a cup of iced caramel latte from Johnny. Mark decides that he has a new favourite band m–

“What does Donghyuck even see in you, I wonder.”

Forget it. Mark has _no_ favourite bandmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to be honest and say that i have an outline for this and chances of this being fleshed out is probably 66% + this looks fun to write 
> 
> everybody pray for me to have time to write amen
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/soobiscuits) // [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/soobiscuits)


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